


Date Night

by honooko



Series: Theatre-verse [3]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Bossy Top Hakyeon, M/M, Theatre-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 00:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12664668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honooko/pseuds/honooko
Summary: Hakyeon and Taekwoon have an evening at home, and take advantage of being alone.





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know guys, I just really like Hakyeon as a bossy top. It just works so well?

Taekwoon was staring; he was fairly certain Hakyeon knew he was staring, but Taekwoon did it so often now that Hakyeon had stopped taking notice of it. While this was probably a good overall strategy on Hakyeon’s part, it also meant that when Taekwoon actually wanted his attention, he had to get it in other ways.

They sat side by side on the sofa, one of Hakyeon’s favorite film noir flicks on the TV and a bowl of popcorn in his lap; Hakyeon made the mistake of letting Taekwoon hold the bowl the first time, only to find it completely empty roughly fifteen minutes into the movie. After that, Taekwoon lost snack-bowl privileges. Hakyeon was completely engrossed in the film; Taekwoon had honestly stopped paying attention to it because watching Hakyeon react was far more interesting. He also found himself unconsciously mirroring Hakyeon’s expressions: he smiled when Hakyeon smiled, he frowned when Hakyeon frowned—he still hadn’t teared up, but he did feel the need to reach out and hold Hakyeon’s hand every time a sad scene came up.

Usually he also wondered why the hell Hakyeon continued to _like_ holding his hand.

People came and went in Taekwoon’s life; he’d made some degree of peace with it. He did fine in sports, fine in performing, fine in school—it was the minute he was supposed to be social in some way that everything kind of fell apart. Of the friends that he had, he wouldn’t describe them as “close.” He wasn’t even sure if the other party would describe _him_ as a _friend._ The shining exception was Wonshik, who got along with essentially everyone, and just accepted Taekwoon’s weirdness without a second thought. If he was pressed, he would hesitantly have called Jaehwan a friend; they’d been in choir long enough for Taekwoon to count it, but he suspected Jaehwan would be surprised by this information.

Then Hakyeon happened.

“Happened” really felt like the right word for it, because while his feelings had built over time, the start was very much a leap into the air. Hakyeon not a person, Hakyeon was an _event_ , something that would stand out in your mind for the rest of your life.

Taekwoon should have been nervous about it, but he wasn’t. His anxiety just melted away with Hakyeon; Wonshik made him feel like his weirdness was acceptable. Hakyeon made him feel like there was nothing weird about him at all.

“Is there something on my face?” Hakyeon asked, turning to look at him after... a lot of staring. Taekwoon shook his head once, sharp. “What are you staring at, then?”

“You,” he said. 

“Okay,” Hakyeon said, and just like that, it was fine. Before, it was weird. Now, it was perfectly reasonable. Hakyeon just _did that_ , turning awkward into normal like a switch.

“Oh no,” Hakyeon said, bringing a hand to his mouth.

“What?”

“I forgot how sad the ending is,” Hakyeon said through his fingers, eyes wide and glued on the screen. “It’s so good. I usually cry.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Taekwoon said at the same time as catching Hakyeon’s free hand in both of his.

“No, it’s fantastic,” Hakyeon explained. “The acting is just incredible. It’s heart-breaking, but it’s _good._ ”

“Are you going to cry?” Taekwoon asked with some concern, scooting closer to Hakyeon. He wasn’t entirely sure how much closer than ‘touching’ was physically possible, but he tried.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Hakyeon said, then as the scene in question really got into it, he started tearing up. Taekwoon didn’t like it when Hakyeon cried, for a lot of reasons, but at least this time it wasn’t because he was _actually_ sad, or _actually_ frustrated. Taekwoon put his arm around Hakeyon’s shoulders and didn’t pull away when Hakyeon leaned his head on Taekwoon’s shoulder. When the movie finally ended, he was sniffling a lot but not hysterical, so Taekwoon just patted his head gently while he composed himself.

Hakyeon liked being pat; despite this, nobody else even tried. Hakyeon said nobody else noticed when he needed it, but Taekwoon thought that had to be wrong, because Hakyeon was so _obvious_ about it. It was all right there, on his face. He also had a tendency to hug other people when what he actually wanted was for someone to hug him. Taekwoon was still working on hugs. He was getting better.

Hakyeon lifted his head and stretched his neck and shoulders. There was a series of pops as he moved; it _sounded_ painful, but Hakyeon insisted they felt quite good.

“Are you hungry?” Taekwoon asked softly, his eyes catching on the way Hakyeon’s hair was pushed up where his head had been on Taekwoon’s shoulder. He reached out and combed it down with his fingers.

“Are you?” Hakyeon said, before immediately following with, “Stupid question, you always are. How on earth are you so _slim_?”

“I’m long,” Taekwoon pointed out. “I’m just stretched.”

“So if you were average height, you’d be chubbier?” Hakyeon extrapolated.

“Probably,” Taekwoon said with a shrug. He doubted there was anything even remotely scientific about this theory, but it felt correct in an extremely dumb way. “You didn’t answer.” They stood up and Taekwoon stretched; Hakyeon watched him with an extremely pleased expression on his face.

Sometimes Hakyeon was weird too.

“Yeah, I could eat,” Hakyeon said. “I didn’t finish the popcorn.” Taekwoon reached for the bowl, but Hakyeon held it out of the way, then began rotating slowly as Taekwoon tried to take it from him. After a couple of laps around Hakyeon, chasing it, he gave up. It was cold anyway. He turned towards the kitchen, knowing without needing to look that Hakyeon was following him on cat-silent feet; it was weird how quietly he moved, considering how not-quiet he was in most other aspects.

“Pasta?” Taekwoon threw over his shoulder. It wasn’t that he couldn’t make other things, he just thought it was his best dish.

“Sounds good to me,” Hakyeon said, putting the popcorn bowl on the counter. He paused, then picked it up and dumped the unpopped kernels and cold popcorn into the trash, _then_ put the bowl down. He was looking at Taekwoon quite pointedly the entire time.

“I’m not going to counter-surf the end of that,” Taekwoon said defensively.

“You’ve counter-surfed pizza, Chinese takeout, and a granola bar that I already took a bite out of,” Hakyeon informed him. “You can’t be trusted.”

Taekwoon opened his mouth to reply, but the front door opened with a bang. He flinched immediately, hunching his shoulders up instinctively.

“Won—”

“Not him,” Taekwoon interrupted. Wonshik opened doors like a considerate person: gently. He also habitually called out ‘I’m home’ regardless of whether anyone else was. The loud ones were one, if not all, of the other three guys. Taekwoon hadn’t entirely agreed to move in with them, so much as he lived with four seniors last year, and when they graduated, they offered their rooms to friends. Taekwoon invited Wonshik. He didn’t know him very well at the time, but he was glad he’d made the offer now.

Jisung and Gunho were not _bad_ guys; they were just difficult to be around. For him.

“Taekwoon,” Jisung greeted him as he walked into the kitchen. Taekwoon was taller than him, but he had a tendency to slouch down around them as if it would somehow either make him smaller, or them quieter. “You’re out of your cave, good for you!” Jisung slapped him on the back in what was probably friendly, if you weren’t Jung Taekwoon.

“Oh hey,” Gunho said, “Hakyeon!” Taekwoon whipped around, staring at Hakyeon in mild shock.

“Gunho,” Hakyeon said with a pleasant smile, “Long time no see.”

“You know each other?” Jisung asked. 

“We had—what, three classes together last year?” Hakyeon said, tapping his chin.

“Biochem, art history and... shit, what was the last one?” Gunho said.

“Philosophy of science,” Hakyeon said. He was still smiling, which somewhat unnerved Taekwoon, so he tried to go about preparing the pasta as if his housemates weren’t there. His hands were shaking, so he stopped before he rattled the dishes. He wasn’t sure what he was suddenly so nervous about, just that he was increasingly nervous. Ever so slightly, Hakyeon stepped sideways, standing between Taekwoon and his housemates like a buffer; it felt... better.

“So what are you doing here?” Gunho asked, confused. Taekwoon winced. He hadn’t told them about Hakyeon; he didn’t really tell them anything. They weren’t his friends.

“Watching a movie,” Hakyeon said, still with a polite smile.

“Is Wonshik here?” Gunho asked.

“No,” Hakyeon said. “He’s hanging out with a friend.”

“...Wait, are you here because of _him?!_ ” Gunho asked incredulously, gesturing in Taekwoon’s direction. “Why?!”

Taekwoon said absolutely nothing; he couldn’t even look at Gunho. 

“We’re friends,” Hakyeon said, and there was something in his voice that ever-so-slightly implied that this was a stupid question, because the answer was perfectly obvious. 

“You’re friends?” Jisung said, equally baffled. “With Taekwoon?”

“You’re not?” Hakyeon said.

“How?” Jisung asked. “He’s practically mute. Right Taekwoon? You don’t do conversations.”

“Strange,” Hakyeon said mildly. “I hadn’t noticed.” He turned his head to look at Taekwoon with a real smile, reassuring and warm, and the feeling of being safe in this room with these people intensified. “We spent hours talking during the run.” It wasn’t a lie; they had talked, a lot (for Taekwoon.)

“Oh, I heard about that,” Jisung said. “The super gay musical, right? Didn’t two of them make out?”

“It suited the character’s development,” Hakyeon said. For the first time, a slight tension came out in Hakyeon’s voice, but he suspected he was the only one to notice. Even after the run ended, the show was still very much Hakyeon’s baby.

“Still,” Gunho said, pulling a face. “Kind of gross.”

“I thought it was rather sweet,” Hakyeon said. “But I’m gay, so that might have just been me.” Taekwoon’s eyes widened; it was so _easy_ for him to say, so natural. Was he just that comfortable with himself? Was he that brave?

Well, yes, Taekwoon supposed he already knew Hakyeon was.

“You’re gay?” Jisung asked.

“You didn’t know?” Hakyeon replied. “It’s pretty common knowledge. You know, right Gunho?”

“It’s... really obvious,” Gunho said with a nod. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Hakyeon said brightly. “Like I said, common knowledge. But we’re all pretty honest about ourselves in my department, generally speaking.”

“Wait,” Gunho said, looking suddenly at Taekwoon. “Are _you_ gay?”

For half a second, Taekwoon instinctively wanted to deny it; it wasn’t that he was ashamed, exactly, so much as he didn’t want to share anything private about himself with these guys who had mercilessly teased him for being shy and quiet, as if they were personality flaws that made him unlikeable.

Except Hakyeon liked him. And Wonshik, and the other guys from the show. Didn’t that mean he was likeable to people who mattered?

Taekwoon put an arm around Hakyeon’s back, hand on his hip, and rested his chin on Hakyeon’s shoulder. Without saying a word, he leveled a flat look at Jisung and Gunho, daring them to comment. Hakyeon patted the top of his head affectionately with a considerably warmer smile that Taekwoon could almost _feel_.

“Oh,” said Gunho. “Shit, was this your date night or something? Sorry, we didn’t mean to crash it.” He seemed... genuinely apologetic about it. Taekwoon gave a single short nod, digging his chin further into Hakyeon’s shoulder. 

“We’ll get lost then,” Jisung said, slightly less apologetic, but still enough to count. “I’ll just grab a change of clothes and go back to Young-sun’s. She’ll put up with me for another day.”

“Same,” Gunho said. “Ten minutes tops. Have fun guys!” They booked it for their rooms, and Hakyeon turned his radiant smile to Taekwoon.

“See?” he said. “They don’t hate you. They just don’t know you very well.”

“They don’t want to know me,” Taekwoon grumped. “They just want to be jerks.”

Hakyeon sighed, annoyed by Taekwoon’s stubbornness but willing to put up with it for now. Letting go of Hakyeon, he decided to return to the previous task of dinner. Hakyeon had apparently decided to be a nuisance, because he wrapped his arms around Taekwoon’s waist and followed him around the small kitchen like an extremely affectionate shadow; at first, it was annoying, but after his housemates made their noisy departure Hakyeon started peppering the back of his neck with small kisses. This both improved the situation and made it worse.

“I’m trying to cook,” Taekwoon sighed, arranging the ingredients on the counter in order of use.

“I’m not stopping you,” Hakyeon said innocently.

“You’re in the way.”

“How can I be in the way?” Hakyeon asked, mock-hurt. “I’m behind you.”

“At least stop kissing me,” Taekwoon complained. It was far too distracting.

“Okay,” Hakyeon agreed in a sad voice. “But only if I get to fuck you later.”

Goosebumps rose on Taekwoon’s arm; Hakyeon had said it so casually, but Taekwoon knew that he meant it. Hakyeon teased, sure, but he also spoke with clear intent. Apparently, his intent tonight was to—

If Taekwoon thought about it now, he’d never finish dinner. One thing at a time.

“Okay,” he said, full of mock irritation, “ _Now_ can I cook?” He could feel Hakyeon’s breath on his ear, which was making him uncomfortable in a different way entirely. Hakyeon let him go, but as he did he trailed his fingertips from the base of Taekwoon’s neck to his tailbone before drifting away to sit on the barstool at the breakfast counter.

Taekwoon slapped the back of his own neck and shot Hakyeon a glare; Hakyeon just beamed at him, pleased with himself. Hakyeon started humming when Taekwoon turned around; it was one of the songs from the musical. Hakyeon had led them all during rehearsal, but he’d never fully sang any of the numbers top to bottom, with his full effort; he said it didn’t matter how he sang them, because he wasn’t the one performing. But Taekwoon had fallen in love with that honey-sweet tone, and some of the songs he would have done just about anything to hear.

He set a saucepan of water on the stovetop to boil, then turned around.

“Sing for me,” he told Hakyeon softly. 

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Hakyeon said. “I’m not—”

“I don’t care if you’re great,” Taekwoon interrupted him. “I like your voice.”

Hakyeon blushed. He wasn’t great at compliments directed towards him; he could and had bragged loudly about every single member of the cast on multiple occasions, but if the praise was about him, he tried to dismiss it immediately. Taekwoon had managed to break him of the habit when they were alone, but his embarrassment was still there.

“Are you going to watch me?”

“Yes.”

Hakyeon sighed.

“Only for you,” he said softly. “You know that.”

“I know,” Taekwoon said, smiling. 

Hakyeon’s voice was smooth and sweet, like honey. It soothed the soul and calmed the mind, bringing you to a place of softness and warmth. You felt _touched_ in a way that was very difficult to explain. Taekwoon could easily listen to Hakyeon sing for hours; every second, a drip of anxiety and stress just melted away.

“Keep going,” Taekwoon told him when the song ended. Hakeyon huffed, but he started another song without further prompting; Taekwoon turned back to dinner, using Hakyeon as the ultimate background music. Every so often he would look over his shoulder and smile so Hakyeon would know he was still listening.

It didn’t take long to finish cooking; pasta was not particularly time consuming, even when you made the sauce from scratch. Taekwoon took the time to plate it nicely before turning around with a dish in each hand. He nearly collided with Hakyeon, who had stopped singing to come collect his plate.

“Why are you so quiet when you move?” Taekwoon complained once he’d recovered from his near-heart attack.

“Vengeance,” Hakyeon replied with complete seriousness that he failed to elaborate on. Taekwoon decided not to ask. They returned to the breakfast bar when Hakyeon blatantly dragged his stool over to Taekwoon’s so they would be sitting so close their legs would touch. Taekwoon gave him an annoyed look, but Hakyeon just beamed at him innocently, hopping onto the stool and giving Taekwoon’s a welcoming pat.

“Are you going to hug me?” Taekwoon asked suspiciously before sitting down.

“Of course not,” Hakyeon said, almost offended. “We’re having dinner.”

Taekwoon sat down and immediately found Hakyeon’s hand on his thigh. When Taekwoon looked at him pointedly, he beamed even bigger.

“It’s not a hug,” he said. 

“But you’re touching me.”

“Your point?”

“We’re _eating dinner_.”

“So?”

Taekwoon sighed and Hakyeon patted his leg encouragingly. Fortunately, there was food in front of him and all his attention diverted to his plate. He saw Hakyeon watching him with amusement out of the corner of his eye, but it made more sense to clear his plate before addressing it. 

“This is really good,” Hakyeon said sincerely, and Taekwoon couldn’t quite bite back a smile. The smile froze a bit when Hakyeon’s hand began to move upwards in a slow, deliberate motion and his fingers dragged up along his inner thigh, then across the crest of his hip. The entire time, Hakyeon continued eating without so much as a glance.

Hakyeon was a goddamn tease.

Taekwoon stood up abruptly, plate in hand, and marched back into the kitchen before he combusted. It wasn’t even like this was new; Hakyeon wasn’t shy and Taekwoon was needy. Combined, there was quite a lot of sex, objectively. 

The problem was that Taekwoon was getting increasingly desperate for Hakyeon and his soft, warm hands, and that was an embarrassing revelation.

Hakyeon was just behind him with his own plate; he took the dishes from Taekwoon’s hands and moved to the sink, setting them down and pushing up his sleeves. Taekwoon grabbed his elbow.

“You don’t have to—”

“You cooked, so I’ll wash,” Hakyeon said. “It’s only fair.”

“You’re the _guest_ ,” Taekwoon protested, feeling the judgment of his mother and sisters on his shoulders for even allowing this to happen. Hakyeon paused just before he ran his hands under the faucet and turned to put one hand on Taekwoon’s cheek. Hakyeon kissed him, short but sweet, and smiled that smile that always made him melt a little on the inside.

“It’s two plates, utensils, and a saucepan,” Hakyeon pointed out. “It will take less than five minutes. Relax.”

“I’ll help,” he attempted, but Hakyeon gave him a gentle shove in the chest.

“I don’t want you to help,” he said calmly. “I want you to go get ready.” He turned back to the sink while Taekwoon attempted to breathe at a reasonable pace for a human being who intends to live. It was this weird, quiet power that Hakyeon had that always threw him off in the best way possible. He didn’t even answer; he just left, headed straight for his room, glad that literally all the other residents of the house would be gone while Hakyeon utterly wrecked him.

It was less of a cave of darkness than it used to be; he’d felt a bit self-conscious about his living space the first time Hakyeon was supposed to come over, and had attempted to make it more welcoming with limited success; it wasn’t even messy, it was just dark and boring. He’d apologized to Hakyeon for it, wishing he had somewhere nicer for them to go. Hakyeon responded in what he now knew to be fairly typical fashion: he showed up the next day with a box full of candles, a new and soft duvet cover, and a wide range of condoms.

Taekwoon accepted them with a face so red it was at risk of catching fire. This only intensified when Hakyeon suggested, cheerfully, they give everything a test run.

By ‘get ready’ Hakyeon usually meant making sure everything he might want or need was within easy reach, as well as setting the mood. The first was fairly simple: condoms, lube, and a massage oil Hakyeon had been into recently. The second task was a little more complicated, because it required Taekwoon to read into Hakyeon’s intentions a little more closely based on very little information.

He had been very clear about the “fuck you” part, so Taekwoon could at least anticipate that much. He debated lighting a candle; was Hakyeon thinking about a slow, deliberate fucking? Or was he in a more hard and dirty mood? As he was considering it, he felt rather than heard Hakyeon coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Taekwoon’s waist. His hands immediately skirted upwards, under Taekwoon’s shirt, and his warm fingers started tracing the dips and tension of muscle across Taekwoon’s stomach.

It was incredibly distracting.

“What are you in the mood for?” Hakyeon asked, mouth against the back of Taekwoon’s neck again.

“You,” Taekwoon replied instantly. Hakyeon snickered against his nape.

“Well, good,” he said. “It would be pretty awkward if you weren’t.”

“Earlier, you said—”

“That I want to fuck you,” Hakyeon said lightly. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Taekwoon said as if that was sufficient. He already knew it was not.

“Please,” came the very dry response, “contain your enthusiasm.”

“I—let’s do that,” Taekwoon managed after some struggle. Hakyeon kissed his neck again; if he really wanted Taekwoon to give more put-together answers, he should stop being so damn _distracting_. Taekwoon had the attention span of a seven-year-old on a good day. This definitely was not helping.

“You want me to fuck you?” Hakyeon asked, still in that prim, light tone that he used when he was talking about mundane things like throw pillows and menu options.

“Yes!” Taekwoon said, irritated despite himself. “Yes, I do!”

Hakyeon was, Taekwoon had learned, deceptively built; his frame was certainly smaller than Taekwoon’s, but he was noticeably stronger. The arms around his waist tightened suddenly and he found himself being thrown onto his bed with enough force to bounce. Hakyeon was standing at the foot of the bed, watching him with eyes that could only be described as predatory, and a smirk.

“There,” he said softly, undoing his belt with a click and tossing it aside. “Was that so hard to say?”

Taekwoon swallowed, mouth bone dry. Hakyeon had started on his buttons, undoing them one by one slowly and deliberately. His smirk grew into a full smile that was sharp and white; the feeling of being prey to a panther intensified.

“Hakyeon,” he said, unsure of what he was even attempting to say.

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon said, voice soft and smooth as velvet. “Take off your clothes.” He removed his shirt completely, folding it somewhat neatly and placing it on Taekwoon’s desk chair. His expression when he looked back at Taekwoon, still fully dressed, was one of disappointment and disapproval.

“I’m sorry,” Hakyeon said, frowning. “Did I stutter?”

Oh. Hakyeon was in _that_ kind of mood. 

Taekwoon managed to get out of his shirt in a hurry, but he had a hard time getting out of his skinny jeans on a day when Hakyeon _wasn’t_ standing over him waiting. With some hurried and anxious wriggling, he managed to get them almost to his knees, but at that point Hakyeon had apparently run out of patience, because he grabbed the waist band and essentially peeled them off Taekwoon in a quick motion. The briefs went immediately after; Taekwoon had only been shy in the beginning. Now, he knew better.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hakyeon told him, mysteriously pulling off his own tight jeans with no struggle whatsoever and taking his underwear off with them. He knelt on the bed and prowled up Taekwoon’s body. “Look how pretty you are for me.” 

Taekwoon reached for him, needy. Hakyeon smiled—the one that made his toes curl—and finally kissed him; Taekwoon whined into it, his hands falling to Hakyeon’s biceps because he needed _something_ to hold on to when Hakyeon sucked at his lip like that. It felt so _good_ to open to Hakyeon, to taste him and feel his hands moving up Taekwoon’s body in a way that always felt strangely reverent; Taekwoon wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he was certainly glad to receive it.

Taekwoon’s hands moved from Hakyeon’s arms to the back of his neck, just resting as Hakyeon’s mouth consumed him. It seemed unfair not to return Hakyeon’s reverence with his own kind of attention, so Taekwoon broke the kiss to lick just under his jaw all the way to his earlobe. Hakyeon’s hand was moving down his thigh and Taekwoon whined again. Each finger felt like it was burning him in the best way possible. He licked the shell of Hakyeon’s ear and got a delightful moan for his trouble.

Hakyeon’s magic hand wrapped around his cock and Taekwoon choked, throwing his head back and arching his neck. Hakyeon took this as an invitation to scrape his teeth across Taekwoon’s throat; Taekwoon certainly wasn’t complaining, especially since Hakyeon’s hand was keeping up a steady rhythm on his cock.

“There’s no one here,” Hakyeon reminded him in a voice like silk. “Why are you so quiet?” His grip tightened ever-so-slightly and Taekwoon whimpered. His hands moved to Hakyeon’s back, dragging down his shoulder blades lightly with his nails; Hakyeon hissed before coming back up for a rushed kiss.

“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon said, feeling dizzy. It was strange how sometimes just saying his name felt like saying something extremely explicit. “Can I—” 

“Please,” Hakyeon said with a smile. “I’d love a hand.” Taekwoon gladly reached down to take Hakyeon’s cock, pleased when he moaned loudly against Taekwoon’s mouth. He kept his pace brisk, smearing the pre-come on the head of his cock around to give him something a little slick to work with. The lube was well within reach, but generally speaking Hakyeon preferred it like this. 

He only really got to do it for a little while before Hakyeon brushed off his hand and shifted his weight to his knees; Taekwoon sat up, breathless at the sight of him. Hakyeon was beautiful always, but naked and hard, panting, a razor-edged grin on his face—that was the man that absolutely haunted Taekwoon’s dreams.

“Are you ready?” Hakyeon asked with a purr, tilting his head. Taekwoon didn’t trust his mouth to work, so he just grabbed the lube off the nightstand and tossed it in Hakyeon’s direction before nodding sharply. Hakyeon caught it easily, but something seemed to pop into his head, because he looked at Taekwoon with the face he usually made when he was particularly pleased with himself. He tossed the lube back at Taekwoon.

“Get yourself ready,” Hakyeon instructed. “I’ll watch.”

Taekwoon stared at him, then smiled. He beckoned Hakyeon back over to him, right hand running through Hakyeon’s hair as got closer. They kissed and Taekwoon ran his tongue along Hakyeon’s lower lip, then tasted the roof of his mouth with a soft moan. Satisfied he had Hakeyon’s full attention, he opened the bottle with his right hand and slicked up his left. Hakyeon helpfully spread his knees apart for him, one hand on each; there were several situations in which having long limbs and fingers benefited him. This was probably one of his favorites.

The first finger was easy enough; he hissed as he pressed into himself, working the lube around until it was fairly comfortable, then adding a second. The third was a bit rough, and Hakyeon must had noticed; he kissed Taekwoon’s knee, then thigh, taking his cock in hand again with slow, deliberate strokes. It was distracting enough to help him relax into it, ignoring the discomfort. 

Hakyeon was clearly enjoying the show; he kept smiling, his gaze scorching on Taekwoon’s skin. Taekwoon wasn’t sure he understood what, exactly, Hakyeon was getting out of this, but he certainly didn’t mind the attention—from Hakyeon. Only Hakyeon. Only ever Hakyeon.

Taekwoon already knew from experience that preparing for Hakyeon was best done with four fingers; he groaned, and Hakyeon bent down to kiss him, swallowing the sound. Slowly, he eased himself in a rhythm, pushing down on his own fingers with shallow gasps for air until he couldn’t stand _waiting_ anymore.

“You,” Taekwoon panted, pulling out his fingers and reaching out with the other hand to run through Hakyeon’s hair. “I want you now.” 

Hakyeon didn’t waste time; it felt like only seconds passed while he grabbed a condom, rolled it on, and slicked himself up. Taekwoon shivered when Hakyeon hooked one leg over his elbow and _smiled_ at him.

“I fucking love you like this,” he informed Taekwoon. Something in his expression felt like a promise, and Taekwoon whined again. Hakyeon raised an eyebrow, about to comment on Taekwoon’s impatience, but he seemed to reconsider, probably fairly impatient himself. He lined himself up and pressed into Taekwoon in one smooth motion; it forced a shaky cry out of him. Hakyeon filled him so deeply he almost couldn’t breathe.

Hakyeon reached out with one hand, grabbing Taekwoon’s and twisting their fingers together.

“Good?” he forced out, shaking as he fought against the urge to move.

“Yes,” Taekwoon gasped. Then Hakyeon was moving, thrusting slowly at first before picking up speed and force. Taekwoon knew he was keening, knew he was being loud, but—each time Hakyeon’s hips met his it felt like each cry was just being driven out of his body. Hakyeon was talking to him, but the words felt far-off, and he strained to hear.

“So beautiful,” Hakyeon murmured. “God, you’re perfect for my cock, you take me in so well—”

Hakyeon adjusted his angle, just enough, just right to press against his prostate with every thrust, and any composure Taekwoon had left was utterly shattered. He was shouting, wordless cries as Hakyeon drove deeper, harder, faster, and Taekwoon could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. Their linked hands were the only thing keeping him on Earth—

“Hakyeon,” he choked out before everything went to pieces. He was screaming, Hakyeon was still slamming into him, and it was so much to feel—so much to take—so _much_ that tears were burning at the corners of his eyes. Hakyeon was only a few thrusts behind him, shouting as he kept driving into Taekwoon, riding out his orgasm with each movement. Then he slowed, and stopped.

Before he pulled out, he leaned forward to kiss Taekwoon roughly, deeply, swallowing his gasps and pants as they both floated back down into themselves. Then he pulled out and dragged another cry from Taekwoon’s throat.

He was dimly aware of Hakyeon disposing of the condom, but he felt like his limbs weren’t cooperating with him; he wanted to reach out for Hakyeon because everything felt colder without him now. Taekwoon didn’t have to wait long; Hakyeon was back, pulling the bedding out from under Taekwoon and running a warm hand down his body to calm him as he climbed in too. Taekwoon curled towards his heat and twisted their legs together, head resting on Hakyeon’s shoulder. Hakyeon pressed a sweet kiss to the top of his head before running his fingers through Taekwoon’s hair.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly. Taekwoon nodded, wondering if he could get close enough to just melt them together into one person.

“Nobody’s coming back tonight,” Taekwoon informed him by mumbling it into his neck. Hakyeon hummed against his head. “We could watch that Japanese movie later.”

“The romance one?” Hakyeon asked.

“Yeah,” Taekwoon said. Hakyeon chuckled.

“You’re going to fall asleep,” he pointed out. He wasn’t wrong; Taekwoon drifted off during movies even when they hadn’t just had fairly active sex.

“When I wake up,” he insisted, wrapping an arm around Hakyeon’s waist and enjoying the way Hakyeon’s fingers were dragging lightly across his scalp.

“Alright, sweet,” Hakyeon said warmly. “We can watch it when you wake up. After we take a bath.”

“Okay,” Taekwoon said, half-dozing already. “After that.”

He really did love their date nights.


End file.
